


Later

by TheDistantDusk



Series: Canon Hinny one-shots (all ratings, no order) [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Pregnancy, pregnancy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27969641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDistantDusk/pseuds/TheDistantDusk
Summary: When he asks, she doesn’t have to paint on a grin, to throw her shoulders back in a display of strength, to pretend her back isn’t aching and her feet aren’t sore.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Canon Hinny one-shots (all ratings, no order) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064753
Comments: 11
Kudos: 120





	Later

**Author's Note:**

> Intended as a sequel to Early. Thanks :)

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his fingers dancing on the midsection that hasn’t resembled itself in months. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over how different he looks without his glasses. Younger… more innocent. It’s so dark in the room that she can’t even tell his eyes are green, but she still recognizes the expressions swimming in them. Love. Longing. Concern. 

Ginny just responds as she always does — at least when he asks. When _he_ asks, she doesn’t have to paint on a grin, to throw her shoulders back in a display of strength, to pretend her back isn’t aching and her feet aren’t sore. 

To pretend that there are so many parts of this whole carrying-the-Chosen-child thing that are less than spectacular. 

She presses his hand more firmly against the bump that’s taken over their lives. “I’m huge, thank you for asking.” 

He laughs, leaning in to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. “Not _huge_ ,” he murmurs, his hand still searching for a kick. “Beautiful, yes.” He pulls back to meet her stare, his lips half-turned in the smug little smile that’s haunted them for months. “Exhausted, yes. Thoroughly pregnant, yes.” 

Ginny clucks her tongue. “The word you’re searching for is _huge_ , darl—”

Harry interrupts her with a kiss, his hand moving from her belly to her hip. 

_No_. 

He hasn’t said the word but it’s there, clear as day; she hears it in the protective way he moans and against her lips, in the way he moves down her neck with a nip and a caress. In the way he doesn’t make her feel like she’s several stone heavier than she was when he did this in the first place… when he _got_ her like this in the first place. 

That still pleases him to bits, for some reason. The fact that she’s pregnant. The fact that she’s his. He even loves going out with her in public, despite the gossips and reporters. She’s sure he’s never put it together, but it’s almost like he’s showing her off. Like he’s proving — once and for all — that darkness didn’t win. Like he’s giving Voldemort a two-fingered salute as grins at the reporters, his hand on the small of her back. 

He’s lovely when they’re at home, too. He can’t get enough of holding her hand and helping her to her seat, of getting things that are too high (or too close) for her to reach. She doesn’t think there’s a single thing that could snatch the pride from his face when he sees her after a long day, regardless of how useless she feels. Even if she’s sprawled on the couch, hair an unwashed mess, her bowling ball of a stomach peeking through the band of his stained sweatpants, Harry just gives her that half-smirk, his face glowing with joy. 

Now, though, his touch is filled with a different sort of heat as he drags his hand over her belly, lifting the fabric on her shirt. She arches into the touch as best she can, but unfortunately for her, Harry’s not quite ready to move on to the next portion. 

He places a gentle hand on the side of her face, his eyes searching hers. “You’re _beautiful_ ,” he repeats firmly, his voice fevered and deep. “And I know this isn’t easy — well, I can _gather_ , from an outsider’s perspective, that this isn’t easy. But, seriously… you’re more beautiful every day. And after you have the baby, I just…” He trails off, a faint tremor in his voice; she reaches out to rub his shoulder, his eyes swimming with that heady mixture of pining and affection that stole her breath at Hogwarts all those years ago. 

“Are _you_ ok?” 

“Yeah!” he whispers, coming back to himself. “Yeah. I just…” He lets out a deep breath before blinking down at her again. “I erm… I’m still getting used to this whole happiness thing. See, it’s much easier to bask in this sea of dread, and—”

Now it’s her turn to interrupt him with a kiss. She has no idea where he’s going with that, but she doesn’t like him to dwell too long. To spiral. To let the darkness invade a space that should be filled with contentment and bliss. So she pushes on his chest and he takes the hint; he wraps his hands around her waist and flips them to his back, even as she continues to nip at the spot on his neck that makes him moan. 

“You’re _actually_ going to kill me,” he manages, his voice slurred. “I only ask that you please make it quick, because—”

She pulls back, her chest heaving. “Do you seriously want to talk right now?” she breathes, arching an eyebrow. “Because we can discuss any number of things, Harry. What are your thoughts on underwater basket-weaving? I’ve always found it too competitive, but—”

Harry just groans, cupping her face in his hands. “Later,” he promises, kissing down her jaw. “ _Later_.” 


End file.
